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Doubt comes in.
Doubt comes in, slithering and loud, pounding in the mind, the only thing able to be heard in a loud room. Doubt twists at the chest and heart, ringing in the ears.
Where is she now?
The feeling takes hold, strong, unshakeable. Doubt is freezing cold; it’s the wind whistling past your ears as you grit your teeth and shiver in a thin layer of clothing. Doubt is dark. Doubt is deep, black, an absense of everything - it encompases the moment you let it. Doubt is painful, crawling and scratching, begging. Doubt is always there.
Orpheus couldn’t take doubt much longer, fearful it would break him down if he tried to shut it out anymore - Hades must have been lying, it had to be a trap, he wouldn’t just set a test of trust, of loyalty and love. There was a reason doubt found its way in and took hold - this had to be the reason. Orpheus shook as he turned around, allowing doubt to take over.
“It’s you…”
“It’s me…”
Orpheus’ face fell, no matter how much he was relieved to see Eurydice still following him, it would be the last time Orpheus would see his wife, his love. “I’m so sorry,” Orpheus whispered, chest tight. Tears formed in his eyes as he waited, motionless, for something to happen; waiting for Eurydice to be gone.
“Orpheus, look up,” Eurydice’s assured voice spoke, prompting, reaslising Orpheus thought they were still in Hades. “We crossed the threshold a few steps back… we crossed before you turned around.”
That couldn’t be right, he was sure of it. Doubt was still shouting, although it had ceased to be more easily drowned out. But it still couldn’t be right - Hades wouldn’t let them leave just… just like that. Orpheus looked up anyway.
The sky was bright, swimming with clouds and cold sun, shining a golden glow on to the scattered flowers and cobalt coloured pavement and stones. The air was light, easy to breath it, and it smelt crisp and fresh, not full of the musk and oil that Hades smelt like. It didn’t feel like he was trudging through grime and dust anymore, it felt like walking through flowers and air so pure. It felt safe again.
“Eurydice…” Orpheus gasped, throwing his arms around her as she took the embrace at full force, never having been more grateful for such a thing.
Tears quickly came. Orpheus’ eyes welled up again, this time in relief, not fear as he realised they were home, safe at last. Eurydice’s as she realised they no longer had to suffer underground any longer, that she could embrace Orpheus, that the world didn’t feel like sadness anymore. Orpheus cried for the guilt, the guilt of letting doubt take hold and turning to look; he cried for the “what if”, the what if it was a step before crossing the threshold, the what if it had been a trap, the what if he didn’t have Eurydice here.
The embrace lasted longer than either had intended it to; the feeling of each other in their arms was needed, all that they wanted. To feel the sun beat down on their back and arms, the breeze whip through their hair and intertwined bodies, the steady pavement below their feet. The feeling of safety and security for the first time in a long time.
“Eurydice,” Orpheus pulled away from the embrace finally, dust caked cheeks now coated in tears. He cleared this throat, taking her hand in his. “I didn’t mean to turn around…”
Cutting Orpheus off, Eurydice placed a finger to his lips, she couldn’t find an ounce of blame for him. It was dark down there, darker than the coal that fuelled the fires of the underworld, darker than the thoughts that bloomed as they walked. Eurydice knew Orpheus was in front of her, she could see the faint out line, but Orpheus didn’t know. Orpheus didn’t know where Eurydice was – so she couldn’t place blame on him, she couldn’t. Doubt was a ferocious and ugly thing, a thing that had plagued her too, always with the idea that Mr. Hades had set them a trap, set them up for a trick.
“Doubt’s a harsh thing, Orpheus.” That was all Eurydice replied with, bringing her body closer to his and planting a kiss on his cheek, a limp smile was firm on her face – saftey was here, but the plight was not over yet.
Orpheus nodded, placing a kiss on her cheek in return. “We can go home again,” Orpheus breathed, a statement to the open rather than to Eurydice.
“We can,” Eurydice nodded, taking his hand again and taking a breath of the fresh, daylight air. It felt right as she breathed in, it felt normal.
Every flower, every scent, every stone caught the interest of the pair on their walk home again. The scent of freshly baked bread and the intricate designs and looks of the pink and yellow flowers at the side of every road. Eurydice couldn’t remember the last time she stopped to truly appreciate the flowers – but then again, she also couldn’t remember the last time she had seen an alive, bloomed flower.
Their house was surrounded by flowers: red flowers, pink flowers, white daisies and dasies with yellow tints, buttercups and lilac plants, even the ivy which trailed up the side of the wall of their home in varying patterns and shade of greens grabbed the attention of Orpheus and Eurydice.
“I never noticed the way the sun hit the ivy, Rydice,” Orpheus smiled, using the nickame he had for her – it had been too long since he had. He trailed his free hand gently across the sunny patch. It was the little things he noticed, senses now free from Hadestown. Orpheus hadn’t been there as long as Eurydice had been, but time seemed to twist and warp in Hades, it passed differently down there, never quite sure how long truly had gone by.
Eurydice smiled, still with her hand in Orpheus’. It felt safe with their hands in each other’s, it proved to them that they were close by each other again. The idea of being apart anymore struck their hearts with icy-cold fear.
“I can’t remember the last time… the last time I saw the sky,” Eurydice hummed, pulling Orpheus close into her again, resting her head gently against his chest, breathing in rhythm to the soft and steady rise and fall. “I’m tired, Orpheus.”
Orpheus nodded, holding Eurydice tight in his arms, the gentle pressure of her head on his chest was a comfortable, grounding weight. “I know, I’m tired too.” Orpheus was tired; tired, but he knew sleep wouldn’t come as easily as he hoped.
He got no reply as he felt Eurydice go limp in his arms, her eyes closed against his chest, near his heart. Orpheus was practically holding Eurydice up, she’d closed her eyes for just a second, but that single second was enough time to start to fall asleep against her husband. Orpheus noted, as he looked down at her, how peaceful and serene she looked – he hadn’t paid attention to how calm Eurydice looked while she slept before. A gentle smile crossed his face, contentment blooming in his chest as he gently tapped her shoulder.
“Mmm?” Eurydice yawned as she pushed away from Orpheus, her eyes reopening and her mind coming back into tune. She hadn’t noticed herself falling asleep, simply gave into the exhaustion that had begun to weigh on her.
“You started to fall asleep but I thought a bed would be more comfortable for that,” Orpheus half laughed, taking her hand again and walking slowly with her to the front door before opening it.
Their house was just as they had left it. Comfortable and smelling of home – their home -, the scent of subdued cinnamon and vanilla from candles Eurydice bought months ago, the scent lingering. The house was a one bedroom bungalow, small but perfect for what they wanted, what they needed. It felt like they hadn’t been home in years, even if, truly, it hadn’t been so long.
“It feels like we haven’t been here years…” Orpheus spoke, wistful, looking at Eurydice with a smile.
“I missed this,” Eurydice replied, leaning her head back onto his shoulder. “Do you want to have a shower?”
Orpheus shook his head – not yet, he didn’t want to shower just yet, he wanted to hold Eurydice while she slept, wanted to kiss her cheek and cuddle up to her close, feeling the steady – and alive – breathing of his wife. “Tomorrow. Let’s rest first?” He replied, stifling a yawn himself.
Eurydice took his hand again, walking them both to their bedroom. The bedroom was plain – a wooden dresser in one corner, a wardrobe with both of their names playfully written on in the other corner, a low hanging canvas lamp, and a small, slightly uncomfortable, wooden bed. Even if the bed was slightly uncomfortable, Orpheus and Eurydice both agreed, even without saying so, that they should have at least three blankets on top of the bed, soft and warm blankets in lovely neutral colours.
Releasing her hand from Orpheus’, Eurydice sat down on the edge of their bed, running her hands over the soft blanket a-top the mattress, a feeling she had missed. Gently she patted the blanket beside her, waiting for Orpheus to sit down. Once Orpheus had taken in the sights and smell of the bedroom, he yawned and obliged himself to sit down beside Eurydice, letting his body slowly sink into the mattress as she pulled him down backwards.
It was calm as Eurydice put her head on Orpheus’ chest again, pulling the few layers of blankets over them, Eurydice finally taking a deep breath as exhaustion washed over her. It didn’t matter that she felt unclean from the dirt of Hadestown, it didn’t matter they were both in their tattered and uncomfortable day clothes, and it didn’t matter that all she could see when she let her eyes close were the lifeless eyes of Hades’ workers. What mattered was that she was in the arms of Orpheus, just how it should be.
It wasn’t long before Orpheus was able to feel the steady and paced breathing of Eurydice once more. The poet held his muse tightly as she slept, gently placing a kiss on her forehead, running a hand through her tangled, brown hair. Orpheus yawned again as he held her tighter.
Guilt bit at his chest, at his mind, the idea that he had allowed doubt to take control of him enough to turn around. What if he had turned around before they’d crossed out of Hadestown? His chest constricted in an uncomfortable manner, not in the warm and safe way Eurydice had made it before. It constricted in a way that made it difficult to breath, in a way that caused his vision to tunnel ever so.
Not twenty minutes had passed of Orpheus trying to fend off his thoughts and physical feelings of fear whenever he felt the jolt of Eurydice on his chest, awake and breathing heavily. The nightmare had come within a few minutes of her dropping off to sleep.
All she could see was the lifeless eyes, the cold hearts and bodies of the workers in Hades, all extending their hands to her, beckoning. She didn’t see Orpheus, even though she called out for him in her dream, all she saw was darkness and the hands and the bodies. Everything was dull. Everything was lifeless. Everything was like it was.
“Orpheus!” Eurydice gasped sitting up onto her elbows, her voice on a rise. Eurydice’s hands shook as she tried to steady herself, turning to face Orpheus. Eurydice flung her arms around him, feeling the rapid rise of his chest.
He couldn’t control his tears which rapidly fell. To see Eurydice so scared, to know he could have had her banished back to where she had been for the rest of their lives, to feel like he had been so stupid and weak to turn around. Guilt plagued him as he gently rocked Eurydice in his arms in an effort to calm her down. Eurydice took notice of his tears too, the mix of both of their tears dampening the already ruined clothes.
Gently, while tears continued to fall down her face as well, she sat back from Orpheus, and wiped away his rapid tears. Orpheus reciprocated the action, softly wiping Eurydice’s away too, pulling her close again, kissing her cheek.
“You’re safe, Cyde… I’m safe,” Orpheus spoke quietly but just loud enough that Eurydice could hear him. While he didn’t know exactly what had happened in her dreams as to wake up Eurydice the way they had, Orpheus could only begin imagine the horrors her mind created and remembered.
A nod for a reply. An, “I am safe, and so are you.” Eurydice’s voice replicated the soft tone Orpheus’ had as she replied; her head gently rested on his shoulder once again.
The words “I’m safe, and so are you” seemed like a new mantra that would be adopted by the pair. The couple knew it would take awhile – months, maybe years – to feel safe again, to feel calm, to allow each other out of sight for long periods of time. But Eurydice and Orpheus were prepared to work through it, prepared to let happen what was meant to happen.
“Hold me while we sleep?” Eurydice asked, tenderly wiping the tears of Orpheus’ cheeks for the last time, humming softly as she laid her head back down onto the slightly damp, rough shirt covering his chest.
“I will,” Orpheus replied, breathing out as Eurydice laid down. “Sleep well,” he spoke, voice light again, exhaustion and will to sleep finally filling him.
Closing his eyes slightly, he expected no reply from Eurydice as he noted, for the third time, she was fast asleep in his arms. It wasn’t long before Orpheus’ breaths evened out too, leaving his arms wrapped around Eurydice, asleep and entwined at last.